Fate, or Something Like It
by Scribbler
Summary: All things considered, it seemed like fate that, when it finally did happen, Anzu was the one who initiated the kiss.


**Disclaimer****:** Drunkenly not mine.

**A/N****: **I started a challenge on LiveJournal for people to provide me with pieces of fanart that I would attempt to write fic for. I'm not sure how happy I am with this one, but it was unexpectedly difficult to write a fic for the picture I'd been given.

Based on elvenjunko. deviantart. com/art/Peachshipping-Kiss-70606259

* * *

_**Fate, or Something Like It**_

Fic © Scribbler, April 2009.

Image © Elven Junko, November 2007.

* * *

All things considered, it seemed like fate that, when it finally did happen, Anzu was the one who initiated the kiss.

Actually, it seemed like fate because it _was _fate. Or rather it was Fate. Destiny had gotten together with Providence, and together they'd running-tackled Fate and held it down until it agreed that this was What Must Happen, and that it was high time it Bloody Well Did Happen. They'd been waiting around for ages with no sign of an emotional payoff, and frankly they were sick of it. They'd done more than their fair share of work in the lives of these people, and now it was Fate's turn. It helped enormously that Fate was very ticklish, and that Providence like to wear decorative feathers.

What _wasn't_ Fate's doing were the strawberry daiquiris swirling around inside Anzu at the time. That particular gem was Irony's handiwork, since nobody had been watching the door and the little bugger had slipped in unnoticed. By the time they realised what was going on, it was too late and she had already down her first glass.

Neither was it Fate that Yuugi, whose private fantasies since he was twelve had centred almost entirely on his best friend, was completely unsuspecting until the actual moment of contact. He only became a participant because he turned around to say something to Anzu and found her face so close that it was either kiss her or headbutt her. Consequently, his astonished expression was forever etched onto the memories of everyone who saw it because it was so raw it was practically still bleeding.

"Well," Otogi said when Anzu made no move to let go. "That was unexpected."

"You think?" Jounouchi had refused to touch anything with alcohol in – a longstanding reaction to growing up with a drunkard. As a result, he was the only one not even slightly tipsy, and so the only one able to fully value what was happening. "I think it's about damn time. I was getting sick of them mooning over each other without ever making a move."

Destiny and Providence paused long enough from berating Irony to cheer in agreement.

"Talk about a spectacular way to end high school," said Honda. He eyed the delicate glass in his hand. He'd decried it at first as a girly drink, but Otogi was the host of this Pre-Graduation Party and had decided that the best way to say toodles to uniforms, homework and Saturday morning cram school was with cocktails.

"Beer is common, champagne hackneyed, and whisky likely to give everyone alcoholic poisoning," he'd said when they arrived at his mansion to find the games room set up for a soiree that made them all feel underdressed, underprivileged and underage. "We're supposed to be saying goodbye to high school with a bang, not a whimper or a trip to the emergency room."

"We're still too young to drink, you know," Anzu had pointed out.

"Back in the knife drawer, Miss Sharp. That's kind of the _point_. This is when we're supposed to say goodbye to rules and regulations. Break out of the box. _Live _a little. Or are you so straight-laced you'd have a coronary if you stole a paperclip from school?"

Anzu had pulled herself up primly, then seemed to realise what she was doing and deflated. It was hard being the only girl amongst a group of boys, but it was equally hard being what she termed 'the only sane one in the bunch'. It wasn't that she was a killjoy – although Jounouchi would argue about that until he turned blue in the face – it was just that she had a highly developed sense of propriety, plus a well-honed instinct not to let her friends get into trouble.

A thought had occurred to her then, and she'd fixed Otogi with a triumphant look. "And Jounouchi's teetotal."

"So don't do anything embarrassing or incriminating he can photograph and use against you later. There are enough nibbles around to keep him occupied. I even ordered in -" Otogi had shuddered "– his favourite _cocktails weenies_ as a special treat. Although how he can actually eat those things without puking is beyond me."

Jounouchi, already halfway through a plate of them, paused only long enough to flip him the bird.

"What's the matter, Anzu?" Otogi had said silkily, knowing he'd got her riled and enjoying it immensely. Otogi always enjoyed throwing the cat amongst the pigeons – proverbially and literally, since he had no love of 'those rats with wings' because their faeces constantly ruined the paint on his sleek black cars. "Scared?"

"Stop trying to provoke me, Otogi."

"I'm not trying to do anything. Well, except have a good time with my closest friends. Jounouchi doesn't mind if we enjoy a few cocktails. Do you, dog-breath?"

"Up yours, rich boy."

"See?"

"Or have we finally found something you can't bring yourself to match us at?" Otogi went on craftily.

And Anzu, who had spent too many years fighting for female rights, and trying to prove girls were just as good at boys at _everything_, had, perhaps foolishly, decided to step into the breach once more – not knowing the ultimate outcome her natural 'anything you can do, I can do better' impulse would lead to.

"How many of those things has she drunk?" Honda asked now. It had been at least five minutes, and neither Anzu nor Yuugi seemed inclined to break their liplock.

"Not many," Otogi replied. "She just really can't hold her drink." He knocked back another daiquiri, smacked his lips and eyed the pair speculatively. "_Really_ can't hold it. I think she may have fallen asleep."

Yuugi made a moaning noise none of them would have expected from him. Anzu replied with an equally uncharacteristic noise. They seemed to have become insensate to the fact they had an audience – Anzu was drunk on daiquiris, and Yuugi was drunk on … well, on _Anzu_.

Bakura sipped his own glass demurely. "Well," he said when nobody else did, "at least they're both happy with this turn of events."

"For now," Otogi said devilishly. "This is going to be _fun_ when they stop long enough to realise what's going on."

"You think they'll regret this?"

"No, but I think they're both going to be embarrassed as hell, and I, for one, am going to enjoy it immensely."

"Pfft." Jounouchi didn't think they'd regret it either. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. They were, like, fated or something." He sank lower in his seat, thinking dark thoughts about how his own 'fated romance' had turned out to be more of a damp squib with a bitter aftertaste of motorcycle oil and perfume.

Fate, which had been congratulating itself on a job well done – even if Irony _had_ tried to screw things up – turned at a soft cough. It backed up a few steps when it saw Providence and Destiny, and the way they were looking at Jounouchi like a loose end that needed to be tied up. There was no sign of Irony anywhere.

Fate, it seemed, was itself forever fated to never take a break from the kind of complicated, heartfelt romances that made _Romeo and Juliet_ look like an episode of _The Young and the Restless_.

* * *

_**Fin.**_

* * *


End file.
